


Chaos, Leave Me Never

by x_x



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Au of sorts, Gen, Multi, a different kind of origin story, everyone/lupin of sorts, iosif kashckov was here bc i am an uncreative lump who recycles ocs, takes place before part iv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_x/pseuds/x_x
Summary: This story is about one thief, and the six divinities that fall for him.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke & Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Chaos, Leave Me Never

  
  


In Heaven, there have always been six angels.

And for as long as the universe has been aware of them, so too have they been aware of it as their dominion. Such is the way for any cognizance, it is difficult to know how it all had initially become so. Without a means to check, a motivation to wonder eventually ceases. There is only what is sure, and what has always been. Suns, and moons. Asteroids and planets. A pocket of space with their perches therein. Six Angels. And centered within their circle of rest, stays open a viewing pool in the clouds.

  
  
  
  
  


Life and Death spend an awful amount of time messing with the mortals.

Well, more like they spend an awful amount of time messing with each other, and the mortals have gotten caught in their crossfire. Of all the angels, those two are the ones who most often bend over the chasm that opens up from the mortal pool, leaving fingerprints of whim and interfering with what goes on down there. When Cosmos isn't looking, they even descend, appearing in the mortal dreamscapes to further peddle their intent to the puppets.

It's a game to them, moving the pieces where they wish. Life has the advantage; mortals are resilient, always evolving and adapting to the extinction events that spring up. Yet Death has a strong winning streak, especially lately; a pesky mortal species calling themselves 'humans' have overrun the realm, threatening the perpetuity of all other living beings.

"You've doomed yourself this time," Death promises, sending a calamitous weather storm over a well-populated territory. "Making those scanty wretches in  _ our _ image."

"Just admit it was a genius move, darling," Life coos in turn. She's so focused on pulling on other creatures' strings of consciousness that she doesn't notice him planting illness in another region. "You never saw it coming."

The other angels have always eyed the games, if nothing else than to keep fair score. But Life is right; none of them would have predicted the conception of these humans.

"Without immortality, they'll only run themselves and everything around them to ruin," Cosmos points out. "Look at how easily they keep falling to Death. I'm keeping my bet on the roaches."

"It's only been a few centuries," Life insists. "See? They keep rebuilding upon imperfections, growing stronger. They're better than the roaches, these humans. They  _ think _ . Like us."

"Without perfected wisdom, they will only continue to fail at all of their endeavors of development," Enlightenment voices.

"They're pretty gross, but sort of adorable," Fate pipes in. "You know how their offspring resemble them? It almost feels like they're  _ our _ children, huh?"

Death glowers as Life and Fate share a warm glance-- anytime Fate offers bias, it has the tendency to change the tide of the game completely. It doesn't ensure victory, as Fate has never put much effort into her work; a strong enough will can break the bind of any destiny path laid out before it, which may be the only reason why Death doesn't protest her involvement aloud.

"Thoughts, Neutrality?" Life prompts, because sometimes she thinks herself funny.

Neutrality doesn't budge from his reclined position on his perch. Listening to them chatter for the past millennnia has given him a good enough idea on the mortal realm that he's sure this human phase will pass just as quickly. Mortals live, mortals die. The angels exist forever. Life and Death will always bicker, and will someday return to being Beginning and End; Fate has always let a strong will have their way beyond her weavings; Enlightenment will always know better; and Cosmos will always see that nothing upsets these precedents. Nothing ever changes. No one ever questions it. It's the same thing over and over, always.

He rolls over, gets ready to enjoy another relaxing eon.

"Not a one," he scoffs before succumbing to a nap.

  
  
  
  
  


"Check-mate," Death says in a blink. "I don't think even the roaches can survive if your entire mortal-planet is obliterated."

That was quick. Even Neutrality had assumed the humans would have lasted out at least another few eras.

"Poo," Fate calls from somewhere above them. She can never stay on her perch for too long.

Life's smile doesn't leave, but there's a palpable tension to her voice. "Don't speak too quickly, Death. I wouldn't want you embarrassing yourself."

"They were dooming themselves all along," Enlightenment tells her like he's doing her a favor, making sure her hopes aren't too high for when she falls-- although he sounds disappointed as well. "Each step forward has resulted in fruitions that have only impaired their well-being in the long run. They possess too little insight to survive their own shortcomings."

Cosmos gives a rumbly sigh. "Too bad. Was wondering if their subjective law would ever be straightened out. They gave it a good go while they were at it, at least."

Soft-hearted, all of them. Neutrality knows they've been fascinated with the humans since their conception-- he puts it down to how Fate had stated the humans were like the angels' children. It's like watching a simulation run of how they, the angels themselves, would have lived, had they been mortal. The similarities found in the way humans carry themselves are uncanny.

Most clamor for survival, as Life expected. But there's also an odd proclivity towards killing one another, to Death's delight. They're all of oddly strong will, Fate has found when trying to place specific paths for them. They are also highly philosophical, questioning their existence and always aspiring for betterment, which meets Enlightenment's approval. Cosmos is the only one who can end the game, but won't; he seems to be impressed with how the humans have organized into social groups, creating civilization, laws and order. Even Neutrality finds it somewhat endearing how there are millions of humans still that can't find it in themselves to give a darn over their circumstances, be it dire or blessed.

"The rest of you can be embarrassed with  _ him _ ," Life quips tightly. She'd grown especially protective of the creations, of their waywardness especially.

"Hey, hey, don't give up on those roaches," chuckles Cosmos. "They have been there even before the humans."

Enlightenment is quiet-- he usually is, but Neutrality catches the nuance of pensiveness from him. Sometimes a human's actions catch his attention for whatever reason, but it's normally not anything that the rest of them want to hear about.

But then, everyone else goes quiet too.

Neutrality has the odd sensation of…wanting to see what is transpiring in the mortal realm. He doesn't care  _ enough _ to actually dedicate the effort of movement, but, still. The feeling is enough for him to feel displaced.

Then, Death's voice. "What just happened?"

It's followed immediately by Life's celebratory squeal. A breeze brushes past Neutrality's face as she begins to swoop and soar, crowing sunbeams of laughter. For the first time since earth's conception, and Life's development of it, Neutrality finally opens his eyes, has to squint at the light. He'd forgotten how bright seeing is.

Life is still fluttering in the air, tossing her limbs in an uncharacteristically unruly display of absolute joy. The others are now gathered around the chasm in the clouds; the commotion has brought even Fate to a stand-still as she peers down on the situation.

Death silently, rigidly, sits back on his perch, eyes dark with rage. He shoots Fate an accusatory glare.

Fate throws her hands up defensively. "I haven't done a thing!"

"I find that difficult to believe." Death returns his blackened stare to the chasm. "How does one measly human-- some small-time  _ thief _ , at that--"

"My Champion!" Life gloats from high above. "My Darling!"

"--defy all facets of logic and save  _ everything _ , only for the fact that the jewel he was after  _ just _ so happened to be the trigger to the galactic magnet attracting the asteroid? I had this play set up from  _ centuries _ ago! Humans doing themselves in from the reckless use of their own devices that developed faster than their own fathoming. It was  _ perfect _ ."

"Seems more like dumb luck than any tie to destiny," Cosmos muses. There's an odd note of concern in his voice, though; it makes sense that he's unsettled by the unprecedented stroke of chance.

"Or true transcendence," Enlightenment says then, stroking his chin. "This thief was after the jewel, but I cannot help but see implications that he knew exactly what else was at stake when he implemented his plan of theft."

"He is a mortal," Death seethes. "They're not so clever."

"You get like this every single time a human defies your expectations," Life shouts, finally returning to her perch. "And then you  _ kill _ them."

"You're right," Death says, now suddenly very calm. "I do."

Life's eyes narrow. "Oh, no, you  _ don't _ ."

Immediately, they lean over the chasm at the same time, fingers moving strings of events, all centered around a single mortal.

It might have been more interesting, if it had never happened before. But the odd thing about humans is there is the continual appearance of outliers, each one outdoing the last in deed. This had been the most outrageous thus far, but that seemed to be the pattern with these mortals.

Neutrality gets a glance down at this particular one, and is surprised to find a very unassuming young man. He doesn't hold any kind of extravagance, special attractiveness, or outstanding charisma that the other human champions before him encompassed. Just a bright-colored jacket, a goofy smile, and the air of someone without much a worry in the world, much less someone who'd just acted as savior to it. A mere juvenile.

_ Arsène Lupin III _ is the human's name.

But-- it isn't Neutrality's concern.

He shifts himself on his perch, stretches, crosses his legs. He's spent so long laying down, that it feels somewhat good to sit upright for once.

  
  
  
  
  


What isn't Neutrality's concern becomes the single most significant concern to Death. Neutrality can't remember when a  _ decade _ became so hyper-focused, much less a sole couple of  _ years _ . But there Death is, obsessively pored over the chasm, planting his traps, breathing calamity on the perennial scape into pinpointed focus, weaving cataclysmic patterns centering their climactic devastation upon a single target. Even when Life takes breaks to do elsewise, Death remains at work.

And there the thief still breathes.

"Impossible," Death mutters.

"He is indeed unprecedented," Enlightenment remarks, taking a moment to regard Death's coveted prize.

"He keeps escaping." Death doesn't even sound embittered or angry. More thoughtful about the prospect. And maybe, even a little amazed.

"I still haven't touched anything~" Fate sings from somewhere nearby.

"I know." Death's voice goes low, his blue eyes glint as he tilts deep into the chasm. "I believe...it's simply all him."

Neutrality wants to ask what Death is plotting at this point, before he remembers himself and keeps to his business. He refuses to get sucked into the same madness that's taken the others. Obsessing over the temporary-- nothing good could come of that. He's surprised Cosmos has allowed for this to go as far as it has. Someone ought to say something, but Neutrality already knows it can't be him. It's not his place.

"I wonder," Death says in a hush. He reaches down with a finger.

Enlightenment shows disdain at the action-- he dislikes direct interference with the mortal realm most out of all of them, save for maybe Cosmos. He believes insight must be  _ earned _ .

When Death retracts from the human's mind, he sits back a while, satisfied with his work. In his wake, the strings of destiny are warbled, tainted, and tangled. Neutrality resists the urge to click his tongue. Illness of the mind. That is just as deadly as tangible threats.

He only then realizes he's been staring for too long, and remembers to blink. Honestly, all this trouble for a single mortal, a fleeting moment.

Life notices the difference at once upon her return. All it takes is a glance as she struts past Death around the mortal pool, and then she's doing a double-take, leaned in so forward her entire torso is dipped into crevice.

When she comes back up, she immediately rounds on Death. "What is this?"

"What is what?"

"You've been  _ talking _ to him," Life accuses, eyes lit up with rage.

"Oh?" Death continues to feigns ignorance, not paying her nor the mortal anymore mind, but he's uncommitted to the role; there's a smirk playing at his features. "Was there some rule in place barring that?"

There's a twitch of her eyebrow, a purse of her lips. And then Life actually backs down. "Claim him, then, Death. I have others."

Neutrality is confounded and a bit agitated by the sudden change in her attitude, and then immediately finds himself questioning his own reaction to it. Life has always fluctuated in her interests. But apparently, he's not the only one taking issue with her easy disinvestment of the mortal. Enlightenment's frown has seemed to deepen, and Death....

"You'll abandon him just like that? Your 'Darling'?"

"I'm bored." She shrugs. "No darling of mine is worth his salt if he requires to be mothered all his existence. And no matter what I do, this one seems to flee from the very paths I manifest to keep him safe. Or have you yet to notice he's been disregarding us both?"

The realization hits Neutrality that she is right. Even now, the man 'Lupin' in question goes everywhere and nowhere, curiously and almost rebellious lacking of reason or pattern. It's as if he refuses any preordained composition, bypassing any and all divine structures and ultimately carving his own way through the limits of his realm.

More of Death lines await him, and bounces around and through them. Open spaces between the lines are available for respite, but he distances from those as often.

"You, on the other hand, seem quite attached." Life smiles then to her foil, having revealed her angle in coming out superior of the game in the end. "I have to wonder.... Do you truly want his end?"

Death guffaws. "I have a list of ends yet written for him. The only enticement herein is which he will co-sign. It's the nature of all your mortals to fold for me eventually."

"Have your fun, then."

It's as if a glow is renewed in Death's eyes. He waits a while, observing the human stumble after having his mind addled with Death's disturbances, but it's not long at all before Death reaches down against and begins stirring once more.

The human man simply  _ dances _ . He tiptoes the single, narrow path to survival each time, making his brushes with Death's influence look like a leisurely song he moves to. It's questionable whether he recognizes the severity of a single wrong move, the way he seems to sometimes move in time with Death's pull towards a shrinking window of escape, only to slip easily through at the last possible moment. So mounted is Death's zeal that he begins tripping his plans over themselves, the strings and strokes canceling one another out, and allowing the mortal to skip from his grasp once again.

The ongoing event is less about the mortal so much as it is about Death now, who has begun speaking to himself, devolving into utter dishevelment.

"He. Keeps.  _ Dodging _ . How? Does he know? Does he realize? This is  _ impossible _ . I will have him. I will HAVE him."

It is not any angel's place to question the will of another-- even as everyone's attention is caught when Death leaps upon the ledge of the chasm, not one of them takes action against it.

"He's  _ mine _ ," Death whispers.

He shifts his weight onto his toes, and then farther still, and falls from Heaven.

And then, Death is no longer.

It says something that Cosmos only barely registers the action as something vaguely awry. The occurence, so opposed to what has always been, has yet to even fully manifest in his mind.

"Where did he go?" he asks, after having a perplexed look around.

"He's gone," Neutrality says, unbelieving even as the words leave his mouth.

In retrospect, this might have been the biggest tell of the end. Or rather, the beginning of the end. Fitting that Death be the bringer.

  
  
  
  
  


A nebula implodes in the distance, earning notice from all of them for the fact that none of them prompted such a random reaction. But it fades into the boundless sands of time. Some things are beyond their influence, perhaps guided by an other force in the weave of their workings.

  
  
  
  
  


There have always been six of them: Cosmos, Life, Death, Enlightenment, Fate, and Neutrality. Six angels, seven perches. They existed well before the mortals, when Life and Death were satisfied being known as Beginning and End.

Now, there are five angels.

The Death they once recognized as their own is now known as Iosif Kashckov, a mortal plagued by an abyssal yen for blood. Never knowing what he seeks, doomed by what he sought for as an angel; he won't know until he finds Arsène Lupin III. In the meantime, he becomes a serial killer. Naturally.

Still, death without form seems to target Arsène Lupin III again and again. As if in response, the human seems to seeks it out, playing a mutual mocking affection.

And still-- Life is found looking over him through the chasm. Without Death hellbent on antagonizing her creations, conflict in Heaven was bound to disappear. But without conflict, it's as if Life has become unfulfilled. The only focus she has in on the mortal. Similar to death, she lays down strings of serendipity to expedite his successes; similar to death, Arsène Lupin III moves  _ around _ them, as if he senses something unnatural about the pathways that open up for him. Or perhaps he simply dislikes ease-- which makes even less sense than the matter simply resting on random whim.

At one point, she, too, reaches down to attempt contact. When she retracts from the mortal's conscious, she frowns slightly as nothing changes about his manner.

"No matter what, he cannot be deterred," Enlightenment remarks as an attempt to stir Life.

She nods slightly at that, at least, though it's hardly an improvement from the stature she has otherwise become. Devoid of herself, nearly-- if one missed the spark in her eyes as she remains transfixed. "He finds a way, no matter what. He's so…interesting."

Neutrality sighs, and tries not to sound too done. There's something that bugs him about the look in Life's eyes as she watches him.

"Doesn't seem healthy to be so attached," he mutters.

She gives him a raised eyebrow. "What do you care?"

Neutrality is startled by the accusation. "I don't. You know Cosmos is out of his mind trying to sort out a new balance to everything."

His voice wavers slightly as Life stands up, at the edge of the chasm where an angel named Death had once done. She dangles one foot out, flexing her toes.

"What do you think you're doing?" Neutrality asks at once.

"Well, why not?" Life asks, and begins to twirl herself haphazardly. "Cosmos needs his balance. And what is a beginning with no end anyway?"

"Is that truly wise?" Enlightenment questions.

"No. But that's the point, I think. These mortals know me as Life, but what have I ever known of  _ living _ ?"

"Life, really--" Neutrality starts.

Yet she's already leaned back, arching her way into the mortal realm as her toes leave the chasm ledge. Neutrality and Enlightenment are left gawking at the space she used to occupy.

  
  
  
  
  


They find her in the new mortal form of the woman called Fujiko Mine.

Neutrality snorts. Life always did think she was  _ oh _ so funny. Enlightenment glances over at him, but Neutrality quickly looks away and feigns a cough instead.

There are now four Angels left in Heaven.

  
  
  
  
  


"You've been quiet," Neutrality notes, and his voice sounds louder than he's used to in the much spacier expanse of Heaven. "More quiet than usual, anyway."

Enlightenment counters, "You, on the other hand, have been more talkative than usual."

He had him there.

They both look down at three strands of fate that move haphazardly in the world of mortals. The fates weave a braid pattern, just barely missing each other in collision. The woman called Fujiko Mine has a tendency to drift from the other two, seeking new horizons and pushing new boundaries, enjoying all that her new-found limited existence has to offer. Neutrality is baffled by this turn of events, that they have even grown this close to meeting despite the vastness of the mortal realm.

"Death will find him," Enlightenment says, pulling his own influence then from the chasm. A furrow has appeared between his brows, indicative of some amount of annoyance since he touched Arsène Lupin III's mind himself to warn him of his recklessness.

Since Life has gone away, he has taken it upon himself to look after her old project. Enlightenment always had a soft spot for her like that.

And he's right.

Fujiko Mine is preoccupied with sensations and experiences, darting one way only to change course, sometimes zig-zagging between goals, enraptured with all there is to be enraptured by. Meanwhile, Iosif Kashckov has been steadily homing closer and closer in a swirling pattern to Arsène Lupin III's fateline-- steady intention only drawing him nearer to, and nearer to still.

When Neutrality looks up again from the chasm, he does not expect Enlightenment of all to be moving over the ledge.

Enlightenment catches his eye. "There is something. Do you disagree?"

"I don't understand what can even be done if you find that something," Neutrality responds. "What is the point of all this?"

"Perhaps I will save him. Perhaps I will kill him myself." The furrow has not left Englightenment's face. Whatever the human has perplexed him with has settled Enlightenment with astonishing discontent. "Perhaps it will suffice that I am there and that I simply know."

Neutrality says nothing. He does not understand the appeal at all.

"Perhaps we will meet again," Enlightenment suggests to him.

(In hindsight, it makes sense that he would know.)

Then he falls.

Neutrality doesn't stop him either, of course. It is farthest from his place to interfere, and there is little to no one else left to.

  
  
  
  
  


There are three Angels. Half from what they'd started from.

But when had the number been crucial? Even now, no changes have been made to Heaven. No changes have been made to the mortal realm. Arsène Lupin III continues his odd fateline. Iosif Kashckov continues his killing spree. Fujiko Mine continues to cleave her own notoriety into the mortals she affects.

Enlightenment has taken form of Goemon Ishikawa XIII; bereft of all that he has known through the ages, this mortal incarnation seeks to touch that profound knowledge again. And still, all the same...he appears satisfied. Just like the two who fell before him, Goemon Ishikawa XIII's fateline skims close to Arsène Lupin III's, only to weave past it and seek a different direction. The addition of his fate, however, seems to have created enough of a buffer between Lupin and Iosif Kashckov for the time being.

But this goes the same for all of them. Each time one of the fatelines are close enough to touch, another volleys through and interrupts and sends them all spiraling apart again. Not too far, but. Not touching. Not yet. As if there's something missing.

Neutrality finds himself wondering about what it could be. Without Enlightenment to ponder over these matters, he figures someone ought to.

  
  
  
  
  


A rumble of angry curses draws his attention across the way.

" _ I _ will find him," Cosmos spits, looking more upset than Neutrality can ever recall him being. "And bring him to mortal justice if he cannot be brought down by divine force."

Neutrality stares in shock. "Cosmos, you're not…?"

"Fate, tie me to him." Cosmos steps to the ledge of the chasm, and never before has he appeared so tall. "Make it I find him. No matter what tricks he plays. No matter how he squirms away. I will find him no matter what."

Fate, in a rare state of somberness, admits to him, "His will, though not  _ strong _ really, is more slippery than most. I can only set a loose trajectory, and the rest is up to you."

Cosmos nods. "That's all I need."

Neutrality doesn't understand what or why this is happening.

But Cosmos glaring down into the chasm with closed fists for smiting. " _ LUPIN _ , prepare yourself for righteous judgment!"

His voice doesn't even leave an echo as he falls through, abandoning Heaven in entirety.

  
  
  
  
  


The records of the world make way for Koichi Zenigata, an Interpol Inspector who reprioritizes his career to focus on personally arresting Lupin the Third.

And so, there are two Angels left.

  
  
  
  
  


There is a tangle.

The weight of all those strings are collapsing, smothering. Neutrality almost loses track of the thief, a tiny bug tangled in the web of spiders. Life and Death's games haven't been easy on him, and the others' involvement haven't improved things.

It's...a mess. Easy enough to bend aside. Neutrality waves his hand, spoons aside the knots and crinkles, and fishes out some space so the mortal soul can breathe again. To his surprise, and maybe a bit to his agitation, Arsène Lupin III simply darts back into the noise of it all. Doesn't he see that he will be snuffed out? Even the fallen Angels who had sought him are keeping distance from the cesspool of disarray. If Neutrality didn't know better, he might assume Lupin actually likes it.

Neutrality glances over at Fate who is draped over her perch, and seemingly not paying attention to the fatelines she is supposedly in charge of sorting out. Has she ever done her job?

How did it become hers?

Neutrality looks back down at Lupin's soul and something in him goes cold as it begins to warble dangerously close to a jumble of death's residual trappings. Only by what seems like unadultered chance does Lupin's fateline find a pinhole of a space to bound through before it can be sealed.

It doesn't make sense.

Neutrality reaches down and touches his consciousness.

  
  
  
  


The mind of the mortal matches the state of his fateline, Neutrality realizes very quickly. It's muddle of concepts, disorganized and free-floating and fast-firing. Neutrality can't even find the mortal at first without searching.

Then, he seems him.

Arsène Lupin III is a atop a heap of disarranged clutter, cracking a safe with one foot, while turning pages of a magaze with another. One hand is rearranging some type of contraption, while his other hand is sketching a drawing. There's a long, thin beam sticking from his head, precariously balancing a spinning plate atop it.

This...is supposedly a good dream, if the emotions drifting about are anything to go by.

Lupin looks like a ridiculous monkey, and Neutrality finds himself very annoyed and yet somehow, compelled to laugh.

Arsène Lupin III blinks wide eyes at him, unsurprised. "Oh, hey. Angel, right?"

Neutrality regards him steadily. "You remember when we speak to you?"

"Only when I'm speaking to you guys. Otherwise, I just forget. Even in my other dreams." Arsène Lupin III flips the magazine page with his free foot. "That last one was pretty angry…. You're not angry, are you?"

Neutrality by reflex wants to inform him,  _ I don't care _ . But. Instead he says, "I'm not angry."

"Right-o," Lupin chuckles, a bit sheepishly. "So, what's your message?"

"...I don't have any."

"No? No warnings that I'll get what's preordained to be coming to me?"

Neutrality recalls Cosmos's declaration. "No."

"Nothing profoundly philosophical?"

"Nope." But he could guess that influence be Enlightenment's.

"Are you filled with an insatiable, literal lust for life?"

"Not at all." That had to be Life, for certain.

"Do you…want me to kill myself?"

"What?" Damn that Death. " _ No _ . Never."

Lupin pauses, considering. "Never?"

Neutrality pauses too. But then, he nods. Reaffirms, "Never."

"Why do I keep seeing angels?" Lupin asks, and for the first time since Neutrality had spotted him from the chasm, looks like a lost, young,  _ finite _ human, crushed by all the divine weight. Haunted by death's whispers, pressured by life's push, plagued by a plight for enlightenment, paranoid of the universe's karma serving the lot of his supposed due. "Is there something I'm supposed to do? I can't say I'll  _ want _ to get it done, but I think it's fair to ask at this point."

They have done too much to him. Neutrality finds himself gritting his teeth, before he realizes it. Has he ever done that before?

"No. Nothing," he answers, granting the human something solid to help bear the knowledge of it all. After a moment of thinking, he wonders something else. "Is there…something I'm supposed to do? Something the others did for you?"

The plate spinning atop Lupin's head wobbles, and he adjusts ever so slightly to regain balance again. "They...were fun to talk to. You guys aren't exactly what I picture when I think of angels."

And, that is all to him. Neutrality still doesn't understand any of it at all. He decides he doesn't really need to.

His parting words are, for some reason, "Lupin…stay alive."

"I mean…okay. That was always part of the plan." Lupin looks back at him and seems to startle a bit to find Neutrality fading out. "Hey! I like you. Will I see you again?"

Neutrality snorts. "Don't flatter yourself."

But there's an odd sparkle that appears in the human's soul just then, and he smiles a lop-sided sort of grin. "Okeydokes."

  
  
  
  
  


Neutrality remerges back to himself, hand grounding his place. It rests on...a structure beside him. A perch? A perch next to his own. He's only now realizing he had lain across the both of them for millenia. But they look to be two wholly separate pieces.

He'd always known it, but had it always been there? He's spent most of existence ignoring everything. Had it belonged to someone, at some point in time?

He points. "Fate. Is this someone's perch? Was someone else here?"

"Who's to say?" she asks with a smile.

There's a forgotten perch in Heaven, one that's been empty since the beginning of them. There were seven perches in heaven, yet only six angels. For the first time, Neutrality questions why.

It's short-lived as he sees that the awful tremble in Arsène Lupin III's fate has only grown worse. Why? Didn't he just tell the human--? Perhaps, as he had to Life and Death prior, Lupin is now brazenly disregarding Neutrality's instruction. But this.... The thief's fateline hasn't fluctuated this much before. Neutrality skims the chasm for the presence of the former Angels who were supposed to have found the human by now, but all are too far to reach him on time.

Arsène Lupin III...may actually die.

Neutrality cannot help but think the idiot deserves to.

Neutrality cannot help but step onto the ledge of the chasm as he gazes down in judgment.

  
  
  
  
  


Fate laughs out loud when she spots the human who was once Neutrality, because without her having to set anything up, Daisuke Jigen is the one who finds Arsène Lupin III first.

It's no easy feat to conceive one's own destiny to that extent. And he hadn't even asked for her involvement, like Cosmos.

She cannot help but feel so tickled by this turn-out. All of this, for one Arsène Lupin III.

Someone who made Death choose life. Someone who made Life put herself within death's reach. Someone who inspired Enlightenment to seek ignorance, and Cosmos to let go of control. Someone who actually got Neutrality to care. Someone who chose ephemerality from the start, broke the rules from the start, nosedived straight into unstable, unguided, purposeless existence to make what he could of circumstance, on his own terms. She runs a hand over the seventh, long-empty perch.

_ Guess you're doing your job after all, Chaos. _

And as she throws herself down through the chasm, past the last cloud and into the human realm to join the others, Fate sighs her final divine breath, leaves the rest to random chance…and reawakens as Rebecca Rossellini.

  
  
  



End file.
